


This Side of Death

by jujubean



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Steve Rogers, Angst, Bitterness, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Multi, Near Death Experiences, OT3, Slow Burn, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide mention, This will be angsty, companionship makes everything okay, dark themes, i hate tagging things, ill add more as things come up, thats an important one, tony is trying very hard okay, we cant have nice things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 12:29:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9123592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujubean/pseuds/jujubean
Summary: The Trickster Loki lost his temper one evening and spoke the secrets of half of Asgard. That same night, every seer beheld the same prophecy: the mother of monsters and his children would bring Ragnarok. The Aesir attempted to prevent the prophecy from coming true, despite Loki's protests. Now, Hela has the ability to destroy Yggdrasil sitting on the tip of her tongue, but she finds that she likes the taste of it. For now.Steve Rogers and Tony Stark grow up at completely different times, but both spend a good deal of their youth (and not so much youth in Tony’s case) in and out of near death experiences. Steve is accustomed to the girl with half a face by now. Tony knows he’s nearly died by the sound of her husky voice. None of them were ever meant to be so close to death, but it’s up to them how to handle it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so this is going to be a bit of an angsty ride. Let me know if you need me to tag anything that I've missed, I promise I will. Some of the concepts touched on here (suicidal ideation for one) are based on my personal experience with them. I'm probably going to use this as my method to exorcise all that. All of the main characters are going to touch on it at one point or another. So yeah, I'm not really going to warn for it in each chapter cause it's an underlying theme in everything, cue tags. 
> 
> So. That said. Please do leave a comment and let me know if you like it.

 

 

 

_The Stallion into the stables, to serve as he was meant, unable to lead an army he will never see._

_The Serpent into the Midgardian Sea, to trap himself and sleep, unable to poison any save for himself._

_The Wolf into a cave, pinned by jaw and claw and heart, unable to howl and never to swallow that which guides us._

_The Half-Dead into Niflheim, lost among the creatures and waifs, unable to treat with the Jotnar and amass legions._

_The Mad into the wastes of Svartalfheim, to tread his fury only upon the remnants of darkness, unable to tear into all he pleases._

_The Mother of Monsters close to heart, guarded by the Thunderer’s might and guided by the All-Father’s wisdom._

 

 

 

“You are the only one that I can aid.” Her mother murmured. Hela had seen souls just as broken as his. She had seen souls far more broken that his. Never had a soul crossed into her hands and nearly suffocated her with empathy as did Loki Friggason of Asgard. She could see the truth of him now, with the teachings Mistress Death gifted her. She could see that he would never be Odinson, not the way Thor was, regardless of how much he longed for it; regardless of how hard Odin tried and failed to love, protect and understand him. There were too many differences between them. Hela could also see that he could not be torn from her grandmother by any amount of deception; there was too much love there. Loki would never be of Jotunheim or anywhere else, not the way he was of Asgard. The way he took the magic of the realm into his veins and gave back to it in kind. The way he loved Asgard’s essence just as much as he was confounded by her people. All truths she could not tell him. All truths that could transition him from the injured soul before her to a being of rage and destruction, lending honesty to the prophecy that had brought them to this point.

_Incompetent fools,_ she thought bitterly. Hela wanted to laugh, but she had her mother’s humor. He wasn’t fool enough nor broken enough not to notice the darkness in her mirth. It was something Loki had taught all of her siblings: the joy of power. What Odin failed to understand, what Frigga failed to explain without violating the caveats of her Far Sight, was that Loki also taught his children the dangers of tainting power with fury. Who did the Aesir think taught Thor to control the Berserker’s rage? Odin? Sif and the Warriors Three? No, Loki knew the sirens song and taught his loved ones how to silence it. He taught his children how fury could curdle their essence if they allowed it to. The joy of power would turn to misery and make them monsters in truth.

The Aesir--Odin--lacked faith in Loki and in doing so they immediately caused the prophecy that they swore proved them right. And so, Hela looked down at her mother, on his knees before her in the dirt of Niflheim with his head bowed and his soul jagged around the edges, and let the power roll around in her mouth. With a few simple words she could single-handedly cause Ragnarok. With a few words, she could grant her family glorious retribution and damn them to becoming the kind of monsters that the Aesir could not even _begin_ to _dream_ of. Hela savored the power and let it rush through her veins for a moment. And in her mind’s eye, she saw her mother’s hand curled around hers as the butterfly in her palm left its cocoon, heard his voice say _release it._

Hela knelt down and put her hands on Loki’s cheeks. His pallor nearly matched her bone hand and worry melted away the last remnants of her indecision. “I do not need aid, Mama. Mistress Death has made me Queen of Niflheim. The dead are mine to care for, and the Aesir can cause me no more harm. I am as safe and strong as you could ever have hoped for me to be.” Loki’s eyes met hers and she let him search as much as he wished.

“But are you happy?” his voice broke on the words, “Safe and strong, aye, that is what a mother is to provide. But happiness the likes of which I could only dream, love as I could only hope for; that is what the Aesir have stolen from you. You were to live among the _living_ , Hela.” Loki’s thumb grazed the symmetry of her chin and Hela allowed herself to lean into it. She afforded his question the attention it deserved. She had only just begun her duties under the Mistress. She hadn’t time to think of happiness just yet. She was still so relieved not to be lost anymore, she could hardly think past it to happiness. Happiness was home with her brothers and her mothers. Happiness was running through the fields and hearing the whistle of the wind in her bones; everyone’s laughter jumping and tumbling all over each other’s, a chorus of unrestrained mirth. Hela could not imagine that happiness had a place in Niflheim.

“We are scattered, but that does not mean we love each other any less. You will visit me, will you not? Happiness will come in time.” Hela deflected. She’d learned from her mother well. Before Loki could dissect her statement, she embraced him around his waist and tucked her head into his neck. She turned so that his chest warmed her flesh side, remembering the last time they had held one another. Hela had been small enough to fit in his lap when the Aesir came. “Should any of you die, you will come to my realm. We have all of forever to be happy.” Loki’s arms wrapped around her and he clutched her close.

“I will not forgive them this.” Her mother murmured into her hair. Hela tasted the power on the back of her tongue once again and ran her flesh palm up his spine to soothe them both. She could see with the Mistress’ gift, the hatred in her mother for the lot of them. So many of the Aesir for turning against their little family for no reason at all. Odin as well, for failing to protect them.

“There is no special love for the Aesir in the halls of Hel.” The new Queen swore. “Should they want reward, they can venture to Folksvangr or Valhalla. All who enter here will learn just as the next. Neither punishment nor reward. Growth.” It was a curse of sorts, for whom among the Aesir could stomach neutrality? ‘Twas always either war or eternal feasts for the children of the Golden Realm. Well, they would know prudence this life, for Hela had much to say on the matter.

“How do you like the sound of Helheim?”

Loki chuckled and Hela felt her answering smirk. No, she would not bring Ragnarok. But there were _much_ more fun things to do than burn Yggdrasil down.

~~~

“Shhhh, little brother, all will be well.” Hela murmured to the wolf across her lap. He struggled, whining, begging to return to his brother. “You must be at ease first, my love. Think it through, you must be rational before you can return.”

It had taken her time to learn how to deal with the distraught ones. Hela felt her stomach roil, holding Narfi, watching him struggle to find the calm that he’d always relied on his twin for. She had watched as the Aesir tried yet again to destroy her mother. _It is as if they_ want _Ragnarok to come. They are_ **_begging_ ** _for it_. Hela grit her teeth against the anger, reminding herself again of the consequences that would befall her family.

Loki had tried. He had tried to move on and find some measure of peace. Sigyn had helped mend his soul and Hela had rejoiced in their union, in her beautiful little brothers. They looked Aesir and so they should have been safe. She often went to Fenrir’s cave and sat with him, stroking his fur and telling him of Vali and Narfi’s escapades. Hela would tell Fenrir of Vali’s deceptively quiet nature, naming the boy more Jormungandr’s twin without their elder brother’s temper. She would giggle over Narfi’s enthusiasm, so much like her own, unrepentant about every last mess he dragged his brother into. Fenrir could not move for fear of reopening his wounds, but Hela could see his soul lighten for every tale. Hela whispered to Jormungandr as he slumbered, watching his soul lighten as she told him of Loki and Sigyn’s love. She told her eldest brother of the parents’ joyous yet eternal panic, reminiscing over watching their own mothers lean on one another, exhausted.

Loki’s joy was a balm to all of them. Most especially to Sleipnir, trapped within the Gladsheim stables, playing nice for the Aesir. Sleipnir was the only one that Loki could almost frequently visit, yet his sentence was the most difficult. Hela could at least hate the Aesir in peace.

But ever her mother was targeted and blamed for deeds that were not his to own. Odin in all of his cowardice could not sway the Thing. Frigga in all of her wisdom could not combat all of Asgard without her King’s support. The savages chose to once again target Loki’s family because he “cared for little else.” If they were not careful, they would find how well he cared. Nonetheless, Sigyn was driven mad, Loki was little better, and the spell that turned Vali rabid would not lift fully because the poor child could not bear to shift forms enough to dispel it. Hela could not bring herself to show him how. Once Vali was in his birth-body, he would know the taste of his brother’s death. Hela had seen enough forced murders to know that Vali would not hear that it was the fault of the Aesir. The boy would close his eyes and see _his_ claws, _his_ teeth, and _his_ brother torn to pieces and eaten. Centuries would pass and he’d feel no less responsible. Better that he was part wolf and aware of the danger he was to others. He still knew what he had done, but Vali at the very least could not process the horror of it.

Narfi’s whimpering settled into forcibly deep breathing, just as their mother had taught. His struggling calmed and he turned his nose into Hela’s ribcage. A few moments passed with Hela stroking the ruff of his neck as she did Fenrir so often.  It was some time before Narfi’s trembling form shifted slowly into his birth form, still curled up tight in Hela’s lap with an arm around her waist and a hand clutching her lowest rib. Hela stroked her hand along his curled spine, soothing him as best she could.

“I must- must-“ Narfi mumbled, struggling to uncurl himself. He was not in pain but his soul had gone through turmoil as of late.

“You must do nothing, Narfi. Rest and let the memory of consecutive thoughts come to you.” Hela cautioned.

“ _Sister_ ,” Narfi insisted, he sat up and looked at her with bloodshot eyes, “Vali. To Vali.” Bless the Norns, of course this would fall to her. Hela was careful to keep her tone soft. It was not the sweet twin that she held in her arms.

“Narfi, you know of my responsibility, yes?”

“Helheim.” The boy dismissed readily. Hela modulated her own breathing and ran her bone hand through his mussed curls.

“Helheim is where the dead go to be reborn.” She said, “Your body is left behind, your soul comes to me and I anchor you to my realm. Then, at your own pace, you will unlearn all that you have gained in this life until your spirit is naught but a wisp again. Only then will you be ready to be born again, that your spirit may be enriched by a life well lived and once again you may return to me. Or, if you have lived your life to its fullest and wish to maintain your spirit as it is, you may choose to rest here. You may make a home and be at peace for all eternity or until you change your mind.” Hela stared into her little brother’s eyes, waiting for her words to sink in.

“Vali is alone.” His whisper was almost a question. A chance for Hela to contradict him before whatever reaction he was swallowing down manifested. She had no idea what to say. Vali had chosen his exile, technically,  and he had Loki but he was afraid of harming anyone else.

“He has his mothers-”

Narfi’s snarl gave even Hela pause.  In between one breath and the next, the boy shifted into a wolf and ran as fast as he could. She let him run. He would not grow exhausted and he would not be able to leave the realm. He would return when he was lonely. It was a while before she could bring herself to rise from her knees. Just as she took a breath to stand, a spot of light floated in the corner of Hela’s eye.

“ _Wait, please,”_ She shouted, but it was too late. Sigyn took her final pained breath, the bottle of poison fell from her hand, and her soul fell into Hela’s palm.


End file.
